Giving In
by absurdvampmuse
Summary: Bellamy/Clarke. Post "Blood Must Have Blood, Part Two." Her body reacted to Bellamy's proximity in a natural way. The timbre of his voice causing her fingers to tremble around the bar of soap. /What if Bellamy convinced Clarke to stay, at least for one night... of sleep and maybe a shower./


**Disclaimer: I don't own the series _The 100 _or any of its characters. All I own is my imagination and the laptop I wrote this on.**

**A/N: **Hi fellow the 100 lovers! :) It's been months since I've written and posted any fanfiction. I've had the idea for this story in mind for a little while, but only managed to finish it today. I am still a huge fan of the show, although I am disappointed in the fact that in the season finale, when Bellamy and Clarke finally reunited and have some time to catch their breaths, they separate again. This story is set right after "Blood Must Have Blood, Part Two". I wanted to explore what happens if Bellamy told Clarke not to leave. I think the entire experience of season 2 brought them closer together. I hope this will leave up to your expectations. :)

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**Giving In**

_"Don't worry about sleeping alone tonight…"_

She leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, _the soft press of her lips against his skin a sensation he had thought about before in the privacy of his own quarters_. Although sometimes the notion came to him unexpectedly, during moments when he had been apart from her for longer than the both of them had ever intended. He saw something sorrowful dim the cornflower blue of her eyes, but intercepted her intention before it could become definite.

"Don't even think about it, Clarke," he told her with a slight shake of his head, the softness in his tone carrying sharp edges. "We just went through hell and back to get everyone back together, so don't you dare cut this reunion short." His gaze held a warning, as did his strong hold as his fingers circled around her elbow. "I will call attention to us. To you."

Clarke attempted to pull her arm free, but his hold was firm and the more she struggled the more eyes would eventually focus on the two of them. She saw the determination in his eyes, as well as the sentiment it stemmed from. _He didn't want to lose her yet again._

"They'll judge me, come to hate me," she tried.

Bellamy shook his head. "They won't. You sacrificed so much to bring everyone home. If they even so much as look at you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, I'll-"

"Bellamy-"

"… leave with you. Octavia too. I can't leave without her."

"I am not asking you to leave at all," Clarke vocalized, her body now turned towards Bellamy.

"It would be my choice, Princess. Although I'd prefer you to reign in your paranoia and martyrdom so we can have at least one good night's sleep."

He gently squeezed her elbow as she nodded, a temporary agreement reached.

When Clarke closed the door behind her - no lock to secure her reclusion but her mother's instructions clear to the guards - she finally took the time to feel the soreness in her muscles and notice the filth that darkened her skin a shade or two. She was drained, emotionally and physically. Even mentally she was at the end of her rope. She needed to recharge, flip a switch for a while as her energy refilled. There was never enough time to do so. There were barely any moments during the day where she found herself alone, where she could think about her own needs without feeling guilty.

Her mom had told her to take a shower, knowing that it would grant her some time to herself. It was a makeshift shower, not looking anything like what she was used to. The small box she stepped into reminded her of the pictures she had on her bedroom wall, the showers people used at the beach to wash off the sand and salt. Her feet and top of her head stuck out, but the door closed behind her and it was enough for her. She pulled on a rope and while the stream of water wasn't constant, it was ample and warm. Her mother had given her a bar of soap and she washed every inch of herself, needing to wash off the symbolical layer and starting anew. She wondered how many more times the blood and grime would come off…

She was in the middle of adding another soapy layer to her limbs, her head ducked beneath another rush of water, when she heard the click and the creakiness of the door as it was pushed open. Letting go of the string she called out, "Mom?!" It was the only person she felt somewhat comfortable with invading her scarce time alone and walking in while she was so _naked and vulnerable._

The deep chuckle that she got in response was a familiar one, even though half of it was swallowed by a throat being cleared. Clarke stood on her toes, already knowing that she wouldn't be tall enough to glance over the makeshift wall. But she didn't really need to anyway. "Bellamy," she acknowledged him. "What are you doing here?" She kept her voice calm and even somewhat irritated at his unexpected presence, despite the instant acceleration of her heart rate.

"Your mom asked me to check up on you!" he yelled out his answer as she pulled on the string again and the surge of water began drowning him out.

She dipped her head beneath the water, holding her breath until she couldn't anymore. "I don't think she meant actually coming in here and…"

"There are no guards in front of your door, Princess," Bellamy explained to her. "Anyone can just walk in here." What he really meant to say was that without the guards she could have easily snuck off and put her earlier plan into action, without any witnesses to tell him exactly how much of a head start she had managed to get on him.

Clarke ignored his doubt and concern. "I guess I'm not as special as you made me out to be. Thank you," she added quickly. "For checking up on me."

"Are you okay?"

"No," she answered candidly, taking him by surprise as he turned back around suddenly to look at the box that contained her. He couldn't see her, even though he knew that if he moved closer he would be able to look in on her due to the inches he had on her. But he stayed put, taking what she was offering up to him freely instead. Still, adulterated images flooded his mind.

"Not yet," Clarke clarified. "What about you?"

"I have no control over anything here…" He faltered, failing to control where his blood was flowing to as well. "… so what do you think. At least we're still stuck together. That hasn't changed."

She took her time to answer, attempting to regulate her breathing as a variety of emotions swarmed her and her body reacted to Bellamy's proximity in a natural way. _The timbre of his voice causing her fingers to tremble around the bar of soap._ "No, it hasn't," she finally voiced, closing her eyes as she prepared for another downpour of water. "Bellamy," she breathed his name, her unspoken words left caught in her throat as footsteps outside the door caught both of their attentions.

"Expecting anyone?"

Clarke sighed. "It are probably the guards coming to check up on me. I don't think you should be in here when they-"

"I suggest you cover up what you don't want me to see," Bellamy said simultaneously.

"What… Bellamy!" she called his name. "You can just tell them you were checking up on me, like you were doing."

"Or they could think we're conspiring against them."

"We just saved their-"

"So they trust us for now. They still think they're in control, but we've been through so much without them. I don't want to risk ending the make-believe game just yet. Do you?"

His hand was already on the door to the shower and she grabbed the large towel her mom had achieved in scavenging for her. She tied it around her like a makeshift dress, just as Bellamy slipped in.

She backed up and created room for him to stand and close the door behind him. His eyes gave her a quick once-over and Clarke didn't miss the subtle action, feeling self-conscious and exposed dressed in merely a towel that only fell to her upper thigh.

There was a knock on the door.

"They're going to see our feet," she pointed out.

Bellamy took another step towards her, leaning in and placing his hands on her hips, his fingers kneading into her wet skin arousing a pleasant sensation. "What are you doing?"

"How do you think they will react if they find us in here together, Clarke? All the attention will be on us."

"This is your fault," Clarke whispered against him as Bellamy lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Just keep pulling at that cord." He nodded at the string that controlled the water and she blushed, her mind having put a different connotation to his words. She did as he asked, the water coming down on him as he maneuvered her so her back was against the wood and the stream wasn't in her face. The water came down in a heavy surge, Bellamy's feet blurred by the water. Or that was what he was counting on, together with the foam the soap was creating.

The door opened and Bellamy's hold on Clarke tightened as the pressure of her hands on his shoulders and chest became heavier. "Yeah!?" she yelled.

"Your mother may have failed to mention this, but we are attempting to conserve our water."

"I understand," she replied swiftly. "I will be out in a few minutes."

There was a grunt in response before the door closed.

He felt the tension slip from her body, her muscles relaxing as she trusted him to hold on to more of her weight. They shared a look, although her eyes quickly dropped down to his lips, thinking they were even more sensual when dripping with water. She squirmed in his arms and he let out a rumble in his throat. "Careful, Princess, otherwise we will have to turn on the cold water."

Her eyes widened as she allowed herself another second to feel how their hips were pressed together just exactly right to create the most tantalizing friction if one of them only dared to make a move.

When the water stopped running, Bellamy lowered her to her feet. He chuckled, careful not to let his eyes dip, as she tightened the knot on her towel, readjusting it so her breasts were tucked in better.

He got out and left her to get dressed.

Clarke was combing her hair when Bellamy walked into the bedroom she had been assigned. She sat cross-legged with her feet bare, dressed in a clean pair of pants and shirt while running a comb through her tangled locks. The look of frustration on her face as she attempted to get out another knot, was one Bellamy thoroughly enjoyed. It was an action that was so ordinary and trivial, but necessary for her to survive. He didn't know if he preferred the version of her who could lead an army and run a camp right by his side or the one that was so enticingly female beneath the thin fabric of a wet towel and childishly entertaining when combing her hair.

"Ow."

"Do you need help?"

Her eyes found his, the question to him clear without her actually having to vocalize it.

"I have a sister, who I took care of for a long time."

Clarke bit her lip for a moment, before nodding and holding out the comb to him.

Bellamy took it and took a seat right behind her. He was gentle, massaging her scalp with his fingers and running the comb through her strands gently. It was pleasant and she found herself leaning into him without realizing.

"Does this mean we're getting a good night's sleep tonight?"

"Yes." _She gave in to him._

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**Please review? :) **As always, I am very hungry for feedback. Tell me what you though, what your favorite moment was, what you didn't like and so on. All feedback is welcome as I am constantly working on my writing. I will be off to read some fanfiction myself. I you come across story that I shouldn't miss, please let me know? :)


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